Page 46 of Mad Love

Another gut-wrenching cry. “Not the one I want!”

“For fuck’s sake,” Gary seethed, shoving out of his seat and grabbing her arm. Even from across the table, I could see his knuckles turn white. “It’s time for your medicine, Angela.”

“Is she unwell?” Charles asked, arching his brows.

Gary yanked her to her feet so fast that she pitched forward, her forehead hitting his chest and smearing a layer of makeup onto his white shirt. Sneering, he pushed her away, and Mom toppled over her chair.

“Jesus,” I hissed, getting up. I started around the table to check on her, because she was still sobbing and had her legs in the air, but Gary grabbed my arm and threw me back into my chair hard enough for it to rock back on two legs. Charles caught it with his hand and helped me balance.

“I told you not to touch my fiancée,” he reminded Gary, the picture of apathy as he watched the scene unfold.

Gary jabbed a finger in my face. “I’ll do as I fucking want until all the money is in my account.” He turned and shouted for Evan, ordering his lackey to collect Mom and take her upstairs.

The side door opened, and a server stepped out with the dessert. She made it two steps into the room before Gary knocked the tray from her hands and screamed for her to get out.

If this had been anything but my own life, I probably would’ve cracked up at the theatrical farce this night had turned into. As it was, exhaustion pulled at my mind and settled into my bones. Between the drugs still circulating through my system and the events of the day, cracks were forming in my head.

Maybe that was why a soft giggle managed to slip past my lips before I pressed them together.

I knew I’d messed up the second Charles stiffened and Gary turned to me, his eyes full of that crazy darkness that went soul deep.

“Something funny?” he demanded in a clipped tone.

“Easy,” Charles admonished, pushing back from the table and ready to intervene if Gary went after me.

Again.

Gary’s eyes cut to Charles, and there was no denying the mocking glint. “I suppose you’re all right with her being an insipid bitch?” He scoffed. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe I should find someone else to handle her.”

“Maybe you should stop making the same insolent threats,” Charles countered, tossing his napkin onto the table and standing up. “I’m growing tired of them, and we both know it all circles back to the same thing—you need my help.”

Charles stepped between Gary and me. “Let’s conclude our business in private, shall we? I tire of interruptions from our lessers, and I need a bit more information so Tyler can transfer the funds without delay.”

Gary breathed in deeply, his chest swelling. “Fine.”

“Go to bed, Madelaine,” Charles ordered me, that chilly tone back. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I meekly scooted my chair back and murmured my excuses, grateful to have a buffer between myself and Gary. Then I rushed up to my room and almost screamed at the missing lock on the door. I craved a moment of feeling safe, even if it was a lie.

I’d survived another day, but I wasn’t sure how many I had left.

Sliding down the door, I pulled my knees to my chest and dropped my head. Tears burned the backs of my eyes, but I willed them away.

“I can do this,” I whispered, needing those words to brand themselves into every part of my heart and mind. “I can do this.”

Maybe if I said it enough, it would be true.

CHAPTER 18

RYAN

After the shitshow at Highwater, we’d needed a safe place to think and regroup. A place where, once we found Maddie, we could figure out our next moves.

The house Ash had found in the mountains of Wyoming was perfect. Purchased under a bogus company name as a corporate retreat, the three-story cabin had nine bedrooms and twelve bathrooms, and was accessible only via a single road that wound up the mountain for over a mile. Even so, Bishop and Knight locked the place down tighter than the Pentagon with cameras and security feeds—which Ash made sure were unhackable—and a myriad of sensors that let us know if so much as a rabbit’s tail passed a little too close to the perimeter.

The first day of December dumped nine inches of snow on the area, but no one seemed to care. It marked ten days since I’d seen my wife.

Pain lanced through my chest.

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